


die like star-crossed lovers when we fight

by sandpapersnowman



Category: Talented Mr Ripley (1999)
Genre: (barely), Canon Universe, Character Death, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Necrophilia, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 20:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: He's not boring. He's not boring, and hedoeslove him. Why couldn't he see that?





	die like star-crossed lovers when we fight

**Author's Note:**

> title from mcr's [Our Lady of Sorrows](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mychemicalromance/ourladyofsorrows.html) because i needed something juuust edgy and emo enough for this
> 
> also i'm not sure 100% how to tag for it but. tom briefly makes out with a corpse out of grief. please dont read this if you arent completely down with someone macking on a ~20 minute dead corpse.
> 
> also dont read if you arent comfortable with in-character apologism. tom is exactly as delusional as dickie is in denial even if murder aint the answer

Dickie's a mess.

The boat is a mess. He wonders if there's enough blood in Dickie to sink the boat. He hopes not.

Dickie's a mess.

 _He's_ a mess. He hasn't stopped shaking since Dickie said he wanted time apart. Called him boring. Said he doesn't love him.

He _does_ love him, Tom knows it. That night they'd gotten tipsy, played chess; Dickie had drawn himself a bath, stood so close to him while it filled, and then undressed still close enough Tom could feel the heat of him through his clothes. Carrying on conversation the whole way, even as he had to put his nose nearly to Tom's to bend forward and strip his boxers off. Tom could have kissed him then, and didn't. He should have, before Dickie had the chance to overthink things.

Dickie's a mess.

Tom kneels beside his body in the boat.

He kisses him now. His mouth is tacky and red, and not moving back against his like it should be. Like it _would_ have been if Dickie hadn't gotten so rattled.

He's aching. He pets through the strands of Dickie's hair that aren't soaked in blood and kisses him harder, deeper. 

Dickie's tongue is limp against his own, and Tom has to pull away to gag suddenly. 

This isn't right. None of it is.

He takes another look at Dickie, lying still in the boat. He looks awful, and he's starting to pale, and _God_ he needs to close Dickie's eyes. One of them is full of blood from his head wound, and while he's still leaned over him so close, he can see the blood stuck in his eyelashes, too.

Dickie's a mess, but it's his own fault. They could have talked about this. If he hadn't gotten angry and threatened him, said all those horrible things, Tom wouldn't have had to... He wouldn't have done what he did.

It's a worse shame he has to leave him out here in the ocean. Nobody's ever going to see Dickie Greenleaf's dazzling smile again, or get a glance at his breathtaking profile again. Nobody's going to meet those stunning eyes again, now staring dead and half-clouded at the Rome sky.

An odd, guilty feeling rises in him as he realizes he was the last one to see any of those. He got Dickie Greenleaf's last smile, his last laugh, his last _day_.

And, he supposes... 

...His last kiss, too.


End file.
